Home

from my journal, thanksgiving weekend, last year. i was in fredericksburg, visiting my family . . . home for the holiday.

"home is one of those funny words . . . one you can use in three consecutive conversations and mean a different place everytime you use it. me, for instance: home (1): fredericksburg, va - where i was raised and my family still lives; home (2): harrisonburg, va - where my heart still is in many respects, and the place where i am at peace; home (3): salisbury, md - where i currently reside. and when you use the word, you then have to be careful to whom you are speaking so that the meaning of the word is not confused. funny how words are . . ."

things have changed a bit since that journal entry last year. as they should. as i hoped they would. home (1) remains the same, except that i have a deeper respect and longing for it than i ever have. home (2), as i learned when i went back in late october, has changed quite a bit. while the memories remain and the evidence to the changes that occurred in me during my time there are still wonderfully evident, it is no longer the place of deepest comfort that i gleaned from it even a year ago. home (3), however, has changed the most. last year at this time, salisbury was simply the place where my apartment was, where my job was, where i rested my head each night. the emotional attachment was little, if any. it was a place to be, for a time. but nothing more. but now it is different. now there are people here that i love. now there are people here who are beginning to know me more than just on a surface-level. now there is a familiarity with the lay of the land. now there is a peace in coming back here after being away for a weekend. now there is some emotional attachment. something that tells me that if i were to leave tomorrow, i would be sad. it is good to feel that after wondering, at one point, if you would ever feel that way.

i have been here almost a year and a half. and year and 4 months to be exact. i am still not sure exactly what it means to call this place my home. but i am learning that individuals, perhaps, never define the word home in the same way. for those who have never left home - never lived anywhere else, home is everything - past, present and (often) future. but for ones like me, who have to number their homes, the definitions are endless. and one home is always missing something that the other home holds. one has all of the childhood memories, the early discipline that shaped basic ideas of right and wrong, the even earlier love that taught you how to love others on the most basic level. one holds the perspective of seeing the world for what it is (both the beauty and the cruelty), the learning how to deal with it on your own, the individuality and humilty that pushed you to be vulnerable and risk something to develop deep relationships, and the fun that made you enjoy life on a whole new level. and even another holds the present, all that is happening on a day to day basis. different places. different characteristics. all home. all legitimately home.

funny how words are . . .